SKUNK STENCH SMELLS SWEET TO POLICE

Richland Sheriff's Deputies Using Pungent Gel To Repel Trespassers
From Vacant Buildings

Sometimes, Richland County sheriff's Cpl. Danny Brown causes a stink at work.

And he's not the only one, either.

Brown is one of 15 deputies using Skunk Shot - a gel that smells like
you-know-what - to drive people believed to be prostitutes and drug users
from condemned buildings. The stench can last up to three weeks.

"It's probably the worst thing I've ever smelled. It smells exactly like a
skunk," Brown said.

Made in New Zealand, Skunk Shot contains synthetic skunk oil in petrolatum,
a gel-like substance. The product originally was designed as a cat and dog
repellent.

But lately, a growing number of law enforcement agencies across the country
have used it to ward off trespassers, said Duncan MacMorran, CEO of
Connovation, which manufactures and distributes the product.

Columbia police and Lexington County sheriff's deputies have not given the
substance a shot, but Richland County Sheriff Leon Lott was game.

He read about the Skunk Shot in a newspaper article and in January ordered
10 tubes at $14.95 each. Not a bad deal, considering one tube is sometimes
more than enough to take care of one building.

Lott gave the product to his deputies on the Community Action Team to try
out. Once that supply runs out, the sheriff will order more, Sgt. Chris
Cowansaid.

Even though the officers have not liked what they have smelled, they do
like what they have seen. The number of vagrants using the buildings has
taken a nose dive, Lott said.

Now when deputies patrol past condemned buildings once haunted by
trespassers, the structures are empty, he said. The odor is strong but not
powerful enough to bother neighbors, Lott said.

"In the 11 places we've used it, it has been very successful."

Skunk Shot has met with the same results in Los Angeles County, where the
sheriff's department began using it 18 months ago, said Lt. Shaun Mathers.
In the Compton area near Los Angeles, abandoned buildings had been a hot
spot for people to hang out and drink until they got a whiff of Skunk Shot.

"There's nothing cool about sitting around drinking beer when it smells
like a skunk," said Mathers, who sells the product to other agencies on the
side.

Richland Countysheriff's deputies use Skunk Shot after getting permission
from officials who have put "no trespassing" signs at the condemned
buildings, Brown said.

Brown and Master Deputy Ben Bolding recently went to a brick home at 911
Rosedale Arch in Eau Claire.

The house is not far from where Columbia City Councilman Sam Davis lives.
Davis said the city and county are teaming up to address the problems of
suspected drug houses and nuisance properties in the area.

Notices on the front of the house declared it a condemned property.
Although the house did not look too ratty on the outside, Brown and Bolding
stepped indoors and saw pure squalor.

Used condoms were strewn on the dingy carpet. A worn-out sofa cushion was
on the floor, not far from a tattered beer can probably used to smoke
crack, Brown said.

"Don't go in the bathroom," Brown told a visitor. "Someone used the tub as
a toilet."

After checking the house to make sure no one was inside, Brown donned his
gloves, ripped the seal from the Skunk Shot tube and held his breath. Let
the smear campaign begin.

He squeezed a dab onto a pouch, rubbed it in and dropped it down a vent.
Then he grabbed the cushion and spread the goo on thick.

"It will get so bad, you won't be able to stand to be in here. The heat
will make it worse," he said.

No room was immune. Brown spread it in the closets, under the carpet and
even on some men's shorts on the floor.

Behind the house, Brown found a shed containing an old mattress. There, he
emptied the remainder of the tube before leaving it on the door ledge and
heading to his patrol car, where he sniffed his clothes.

"I thought I was smelling it, but it was actually coming from the house."

Across the street, Donald Martin and his 9-year-old son, Tim Napoleon,
watched with curiosity from their front porch at the patrol car across the
street. That sight was more welcome than the activity they usually see,
they said.

"They do drugs in the house. I see them go in through the back and come out
in 20 or 30 minutes. ... They think nobody really sees them," Martin said.

Once Tim found out what Brown was doing at the house, he was ready to push
the sheriff's deputy in a new direction.

"What they did to that house, they need to do it to another one down there"
Tim said.